Piety, and Poesy :: :: University of Virginia Library

When as the proud Philistines did prepare
Their Bands in frightfull order to make War
Against the Israelites, Saul (their wish'd King)
March'd forth, and unto Gilboa did bring
All Israel, where (till the sad Events
The threatning War had brought) they pitch'd their Tents:
But when the Host of the proud Foe appear'd
To Saul so infinite, he greatly fear'd;
The rather 'cause he did no more inherit
The Divine Power of a Prophetick Spirit:

For now the Power of God had left him so,
That he by Prophecy nor Dream could know
His future fate, from him all power went
That doth support Kings just, and innocent:
And now a fearfull rage usurpeth all
His nobler thoughts, he doth begin to call
For Wizards, Witches, and his Fate refers
No more to Prophets but to Sorcerers:
A Woman must be found, whose breast inherits
The damn'd Delusions of predictive Spirits:
So in my younger observation
Of this vile World, I have cast my Eyes upon
A fawning Parasite who for some Boon
His Patron had to graunt, would beg, fall down
Before him for it; which being deny'd,
His Humblenesse converts to its old Pride,
He grows Malicious, what he did desire
Before with Meeknesse, now he'll win with Ire:
If Cruelty and Murther can prefer
His long-wish'd Ends, he'll be a Murtherer,
Or any thing of horror, yet will pray
And beg, at first, to ha't the safest way;
Though 'tis not Love, or Service, he extends,
But Flattery to purchase his own Ends:
So Saul's resolv'd, since Heaven denies to tell
What he would know, makes his next means to Hell:
To Endor goes accompanied by No man;
And, with these words, invokes th' Infernal Woman.

Saul and the Witch

Saul.
Thou learned Mother of mysterious Arts,
I come to know what thy deep skill imparts
By Necromancie: Thou whose awfull power
Can raise winds, thunder, lightnings, canst deflower
The Spring of her new Crop: Of thee I crave
That thou wilt raise some spirit from the grave,
Who may divine unto me, whether Fate
Will make me happy, or unfortunate
In my next Enterprize.

Witch.
Strange Man forbear;
Whose Craft instructed thee to set a snare
For my most wretched Life? Dost thou not know
King Saul proclaims himself a mortal foe
To our black Colledge? Hath not his Command
Ruin'd the great'st Magicians of the Land?
Is't not enough, I am confin'd to dwell
In the dark building of an unknown Cell,
Where I converse with nought, but Batts and Owls,
Ravens and night-Crows, who, from dismal holes,
I send to sick-mens windows, to declare
Death's Embassie, to the offended Ear
Of the declining Patient: Wherefore (pray)
Seek ye this horrid Mansion, to betray
The haplesse Owner?

Sau.
Woman do not fear,
I do not seek thee out, or set a snare
To get thy Life; for; finish my intent,
As the Lord lives, there is no punishment

Shall be inflicted on thee; I will be
A gratefull debtor to thy Art and Thee:
Be speedy then. Oh! how I long to hear
The Message of my Fate!

Wit.
Whom shall I rear?

Sau.
Old Samuel.

Wit.
'Tis done. Ye Fiends below,
That wait upon our will, one of you goe,
Assume the shape of Samuel, and appear,
With such a Voice, and Likenesse: or declare
The Reason why you cannot; for I fear,
Ye dare not do it.

Spirit.
Dare not? I am here.

Wit.
Oh! I am lost; the unknown Fates decree
Have set a period to my Art and Me.
Why didst thou thus thy Royalty obscure,
To take me Acting my Designs impure;
In th' midst of them for to contrive my fall;
So sure my Death is, as thy Name is Saul.

Sau.
Though thou divin'st me right, yet do not fear,
But let me understand, what did appear
After thy Incantations?

Wit.
You shall know:
I saw immortal Gods rise from below,
And after them, a Rev'rend aged Man,
Out of the Deep (with speedy passage) ran,
Lapt in a Mantle, his white gentle Hairs
Express'd a Brief of many well-spent years:
Within whose Cheeks, bright Innocence did move,
His Eys reverted to the Joys above,

(Like holy men in prayer) and now appears
To hear your will, and terminate your fears.

Samuel, Saul, and the Witch of Endor.

Sam.
Why from the cold bed of my quiet Grave
Am I thus summon'd Saul? what wouldst thou have?
Why must thy Incantations call up me
From secure sleep? are men in Graves not free?

Saul.
Divinest Spirit of blest Samuel,
The Causes that by Necromantick Spell
I am induc'd to raise thee from thy Grave
Are these, within my restlesse Soul I have
A thousand Torments, The Philistims are
Prepar'd against me with a dreadfull War
And the Almighty who hath stood my Friend
In many Battels, given victorious End
To all my Actions, and (in Dreams) would shew
Whether I should be Conquerour or no,
All things so near unto my Wishes brought
I knew the Battels End, ere it was Fought,
But now no Invocations can desire
The all-disposing Power to inspire
My longing Soul with so much Augury
As serves to prophesie my Misery;
These are the Causes make me thus return
To thee, though sleeping in thy peacefull Urn.

Sam.
Com'st thou to me to know thy Enterprize?
Can Man make manifest what God denies?

Yet I shall ease thy doubt; and now prepare
To hear the fatal passage of thy War,
So sad a Sonnet to thy Soul I'le sing,
Thou'lt say it is a Curse to be a King;
That all his Pomp, Titles, and Dignity,
Are glorious Woes, and Royal Misery:
As good Kings are call'd Gods that suppresse Evils,
So bad Kings (worse than Men) grow worse than Devils.
But these are exhortations fit for those
That have a Crown and People to dispose;
Alas! thou'st none, but what adds to thy Crosse,
Thou hast it, to be ruin'd with the losse;
Thy Diadem, upon thy Head long worn
In Majesty, shall from thy front be torn,
So shall thy Kingdome from thy power be rent,
And given to David as his Tenement;
Before the sun hath once his journey gone
Unto the West, thou shalt be overthrown
By the Philistines, all this shalt thou fee,
And then thou and thy sons shall be with me.
But all these sorrows would have been Delights,
Hadst thou against the Curs'd Amalekites
Obey'd the Almighties will. But 'tis too late
Now to exhort; farewel, attend thy Fate,

Sau.
Oh! dismal Doom, more than my Soul can bear
A thousand Furies in a Band appear,
To execute their charge; a Ghost doth bring
News that doth make a shadow of a King.
Oh! wretched Dignity! what is thy end?
That men should so their fond Affections bend

To compasse their Frail Glory? half these woes
That I have on me, would confound my Foes:
Must these mysterious Miseries begin
With me, the small'st o'th' Tribe of Benjamin?
It could not else be stil'd a perfect Thrall;
The highest Riser, hath the lowest fall.
Would I had still kept on my weary way,
To seek my Fathers Asses, then to stray
This Princely path of passions; I had then,
As now most curs'd, been happiest among men.
Ye Princes, that successefully shall Reign
After my haplesse End, with care and pain,
Peruse my pitied Story, do not be
Too confident of your frail Sov'reignty;
If Titularity could safety bring,
Why was't not mine (a Prophet and a King?)
And (for a Friend) what Mortal can excel
The Knowledge of Seraphick Samuel?
Who had he liv'd, and I his Counsel taken,
I had not (as I am) been thus forsaken:
But now I shake thee off, vain World, Farewel;
Here lies entomb'd the King of Israel.
All you that stand, be wary lest you fall,
And when ye think you're sure, Remember Saul.